


all the pretty things that we could be

by orphan_account



Series: femslash au [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Dom/sub, F/F, Femslash, Genderswap, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 00:38:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1799083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not the same every time - sometimes she'll come home and Harry will already be kneeling, and sometimes she'll have to search the flat before finding Harry already in bed - but it always starts with the collar. Harry, who works an early shift at a cafe down the road, is almost always home before Louis, and on the days when she feels like it, she'll pull out the black suede collar and fasten it securely around her neck. Louis has never been a hundred percent certain what sets Harry off while she's at work, but whatever it is, it always seems to occur on days when Louis is up to her ears in stress at work and needs some kind of release herself. </p><p>Maybe they're just soul mates.</p><p>(femslash au.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	all the pretty things that we could be

**Author's Note:**

> **additional tags:** pre-negotiated dom/sub play in the context of a relationship; light subspace; collaring; verbal commands; praise kink; oral sex; face-sitting; light consensual slut-shaming; tribbing; use of strap-on; light spanking. if there's anything else you think i should tag/warn for, please let me know! (also, it's dom!louis and sub!harry, in case that wasn't clear enough in the summary.)
> 
> fair warning: i am SO FAR from an expert on dom/sub relationships, and while i've done a fair amount of research and read a lot of fics, if there's anything that's, like, glaringly wrong with the way i handle it in this fic, feel free to educate me. also, femslash is surprisingly difficult to write, so this probably isn't as hot as i picture it in my head.
> 
> title is from "little numbers" by boy.

It's not like they do this every day, but they've been at it long enough now that Louis likes to think they're on the same internal schedule, like how their periods synced up after five months of living together. 

It's not the same every time - sometimes she'll come home and Harry will already be kneeling, and sometimes she'll have to search the flat before finding Harry already in bed - but it always starts with the collar. Harry, who works an early shift at a cafe down the road, is almost always home before Louis, and on the days when she feels like it, she'll pull out the black suede collar and fasten it securely around her neck. Louis has never been a hundred percent certain what sets Harry off while she's at work, but whatever it is, it always seems to occur on days when Louis is up to her ears in stress at work and needs some kind of release herself. Maybe they're just soul mates.

Now, Harry's standing at the stove, carefully breading a few pieces of chicken. She's wearing an old plaid shirt and a pair of lacy pink panties, and she should _know_ exactly how good she looks, but when she's like this, all pliant and fuzzy, Louis wonders whether she's intentionally dressing to impress or just being _Harry_.

"Y'alright, babe?" Louis asks, sidling up behind Harry and nuzzling the soft, downy curls at her neck. She nudges the collar with her nose, and Harry stiffens for a second before relaxing back into Louis's embrace.

"Yeah," Harry says, and she sounds - far away. Louis tilts her head so she can look into Harry's eyes, and they're big and green and trusting and already hazy. It worries Louis more than anything else, the fact that Harry can get like this when Louis isn't around. Harry's never dropped before, and Louis would never leave her in subspace when she has to be in _public_ , but sometimes just the combination of her collar and her mood will be enough to get Harry halfway there. Harry always assures Louis that it's the anticipation of Louis's arrival that does it, that she's never gone down when Louis is far away, but. Louis worries.

"You wanna play today?" Louis asks. She trails a finger down Harry's smooth stomach, stopping only when she reaches the top of her panties.

Harry whimpers. "Yes, please, Lou," she says, already so desperate for it.

"Okay," Louis says soothingly. "Let me go change out of my work clothes, alright, baby? You'll have dinner ready when I'm down?"

Harry nods and easily accepts the kiss Louis offers.

There had been a lot on Louis's mind on the tube ride home from work - she's in charge of about seven open law suits at the moment, and her boss is being a bit of a dick, and she still has to mail something up for the twins birthday next week - but it's all gone now, her only thoughts focused on her fiancee. Domming doesn't always come naturally to Louis; certainly not the way subbing comes like second nature to Harry. Louis has to plan scenes out in her head, analyze and evaluate every situation, make sure everything is safe and good for Harry before she gives herself over entirely. There had been one time, almost a full year ago, when Harry had had to word out and took hours to come back to herself, and Louis is damned if she's ever going to let _that_ happen again.

Louis washes her face, brushes her teeth, and pulls on her best tight briefs, the ones that make her ass and thighs look phenomenal. She doesn't often dress up, especially because Harry seems to get off more at the sight of Louis in one of her shirts than when Louis wears her raciest lingerie. With that in mind, Louis grabs one of Harry's buttery soft band tees from their shared drawer and heads back down to the kitchen.

Their flat is small, but it's a palace for what they can afford in Central London. Harry had thrown herself into decorating when they'd first moved in, and three years later, it still looks like something out of a Pottery Barn magazine. Louis makes an active effort not to leave her shoes lying around, and she always uses a coaster, but Harry's the one who seems to get a genuine thrill out of caring for the place.

"It's our home," she once told Louis when the older girl had asked. "I like taking care of it."

It's clearly just been cleaned, too, the scent of pine and lemon sharp and pleasant. Harry's lit a few candles in the kitchen - fresh linen scented, her favourite - and the chicken smells like heaven.

Louis is living the life, really.

There's only one plate set at the table, a glass of lemonade and silverware neatly arranged next to it. Harry is standing off to the side, pigeon-toed and waiting for direction.

"Looks good," Louis comments lightly. She sits down with a little more theatrics than she might on any other day, fluffing out her napkin before placing it on her lap and examining both her fork and knife carefully.

Harry's silent, shifting from foot to foot nervously, waiting for Louis's approval.

"Now, come get me off once, and you can have some chicken," Louis says instead. "Then, once you wash down your food, I want you to get me off one more time, and _then_ we'll see what we can do with you."

Harry nods furiously, dropping to her knees by Louis's side. She crawls underneath the table on her hands and knees, and the sight still stirs a tinge of unease in Louis's stomach - but Harry loves this, and Louis loves anything that Harry loves, so she'll tamp down her natural instinct to shower the younger girl in compliments and love if that's what it takes.

There's something about the way Harry goes down on Louis that is unlike anything she's ever experienced. She's not as skilled or sharp with her tongue as some of the women Louis's been with in the past, but she does it with such uninhibited enthusiasm that it's twice as effective at making Louis fall apart. After shimmying down Louis's briefs, she buries her face between Louis's thighs like it's the only place she wants to be in the world, tongues deep into her folds like it's keeping her _alive_.

" _Ah_ ," Louis says, jerking a little bit in her chair, unable to help it. The first jolt of pleasure is so acute that if she rubbed hard at her clit, she could probably make herself come right away. But that's not what this is about. So instead, she closes her eyes and starts cutting up her chicken, trying to ignore the gorgeous woman at her feet.

It goes on like this for a few minutes: Louis ignores Harry except to occasionally run a hand through her messy hair, held back by a silk headscarf, and that only makes Harry moan and work her tongue deeper. Harry clearly wants to make this last - if there's anyone who can get Louis off in an embarrassingly short amount of time, it's Harry - as she skillfully avoids all of the parts of Louis's cunt that are most sensitive.

"Come on, Hazza," Louis says, her voice edging on breathless. "I'm getting bored up here."

Harry makes a noise of protest and redoubles her efforts, finally sucking Louis's clit gently into her mouth. Harry moans, and the vibrations are enough to send Louis over the edge. She gets a good grip on the back of Harry's head and pulls her in tightly while her hips convulse. She keeps her there for a few long moments, knowing Harry loves it when she's buried so deep in Louis's cunt she can't breathe. Louis could probably go longer - Harry knows to tap out if she starts feeling lightheaded - but she's so sensitive that she eases Harry's head away pretty quickly.

While she comes down, Harry waits patiently, rubbing her cheek on the inside of Louis's thigh.

"Good girl," Louis sighs, making Harry keen a bit. "Come sit on my lap, have some dinner."

More than half of the food is still on the plate - Louis hasn't exactly mastered multitasking - and Louis sets to picking out the best pieces of chicken for Harry. Harry sits down gingerly on Louis's lap, and Louis can feel how warm and damp her cunt is through her panties.

"Did you have a nice day, love?" Louis asks, petting at Harry's hair. It's so long now, nearly halfway down her back, curly and unruly and soft. When they'd met, all those years ago, Harry's hair had been dyed pink and chopped to her shoulders; later, she'd grown it out and coloured it bright purple; and now she keeps it natural and ties a headscarf in it nearly every day. Louis wouldn't really care if she shaved off her head entirely, but it's nice this way, soft to the touch and easy to put her hands through. 

"Was okay," Harry says. She accepts the bite of green beans Louis holds out for her, and then tucks her face in the junction between Louis's neck and shoulder while Louis takes a few bites. She doesn't talk much when she's like this, no matter how much Louis tries to goad her into conversation.

Louis is content to stay like this, anyway. She offers Harry the fork, in case she wants to feed herself, but the younger girl shakes her head, so Louis goes back to it. She ends up feeding Harry more than half of the plate without noticing how much time has passed; Louis gets a little fuzzy doing this, too, but in a much different way.

It's just that she has so much _power_ over Harry when she's like this, and it's terrifying. Some mixture of terrifying and wonderful that Louis has never been able to put into words, whenever Harry her asks why she likes it so much. It's easier for Harry, Louis thinks. For Harry, it's all about love and trust and pleasing Louis, which are simple enough emotions to understand. But for Louis, it's about feeling like she can _take care_ of Harry, the person she loves more than anything else on earth. Like she's good enough, and strong enough, to make Harry feel happy and safe. Sometimes it feels like being with Harry is the only thing she knows how to do right.

"All good?" Louis asks finally, once the plate is cleared and Harry has started to squirm on her lap. She gives Harry the glass of water, and she chugs it down gratefully.

"Thank you, Lou," Harry says with a small smile.

"Why don't you go to the living room while I do up the dishes?" Louis suggests.

"I can do them," Harry says earnestly.

Louis kisses Harry's nose and gently eases her off her lap. "Nah, I've got this," she says, taking the plates over to the sink. It's shiny, like Harry's just recently cleaned it. "Put on some music or summat. I'll be out in a tick."

Harry doesn't argue any more, leaves the room quickly and quietly. Louis sighs, runs a hand over her now-damp panties and tries to ignore the sensitivity there. On nights like this, she can make Harry come enough times that she's begging to stop, but Louis rarely allows herself more than three orgasms. Orgasms make her shaky and a little out of it, and she can't afford to be out of it while they do this. 

She washes the dishes quickly, places them on the rack to dry and gathers a couple water bottles from the fridge in case they get thirsty. There's a carton of strawberries and some whipped cream on the top shelf that wasn't there this morning, and Louis makes a mental note to come back to that tomorrow. 

"What's this?" she says, entering the living room through the side-door of the small kitchen. There's not too much there: a huge, hand-me-down couch from Zayn and Niall, big enough for both of them to spread out on; an armchair that was bequeathed to Harry by her grandmother; and a shitty telly. Harry's waiting on the couch, hands folded on her lap, an array of toys spread out neatly beside her. She's shrugged out of her flannel shirt, so all that she's got on is her collar, her pink panties, and a flimsy white bra.

"Wanted to be prepared," Harry says, a little bit of her usual cheekiness shining through. 

Louis sizes up the repertoire closely; Harry hasn't brought out all of their toys (it would require several trips, that) but she's brought a lot. Two dildos, a bright pink vibe, a strap-on harness, a couple of nipple clamps, rubber floggers, and a paddle. It's not the most toys they've ever used in a night, but it's more than Louis feels up to tonight.

"Feeling a bit greedy, are we?" Louis asks, casually picking up the larger of the two dildos and cocking an eyebrow. 

"Wanted to give you options," Harry says, flushing prettily. 

"Hmm, smart thinking," Louis says. "As a reward, you can chose how you get me off next. Any way you want, love." 

"Sit on my face," Harry says, quick as anything. She must realise it, her obvious eagerness, because she flushes again and lowers her eyes. 

"Well, lie back, then," Louis says, like this is a chore for her, which - it's about the farthest thing from a chore in the entire universe, probably. 

"Can I use the vibe, too?" Harry asks. 

Louis isn't entirely sure she  _can_ \- usually when she sits on Harry's face, Harry gets too overwhelmed to do much of anything, much less control a vibrator - but she nods anyway. "Sure, darling," she says. "Whatever you want." 

She moves to straddle Harry, who has already sprawled out on the long couch. Harry's a lot longer than Louis is, all of her limbs thinner and more lanky, so it's a bit of a struggle, trying to gracefully climb her body. Louis sheds her briefs beforehand, tosses them across the room, because she's pretty sure she's not going to have any more use for them tonight. Harry's still got hers on, and there's damp spot right in the center that Louis has to exert tremendous willpower not to play with.

"So eager for it, lovely," Louis says, halfway there, rocking her hips back and forth on Harry's abdomen, making the younger girl tense up and moan. It's the most delicious friction on Louis's clit, and she's tempted to just stay there, rubbing up against Harry's smooth stomach until she's brought to her peak, but Harry is already whimpering, and Louis did promise her face-sitting. 

"Bit of a slut for this, aren't you?" Louis teases. She's basically straddling Harry's neck now, and Harry keeps angling her face, like if she can get a good enough downward angle she'll be able to reach Louis's pussy. She can't, of course; even like this, Louis has full control of the situation, and she's keeping herself just out of Harry's reach. She reaches down and plays with herself a bit, then brings her fingers up to Harry's mouth for a taste. Harry's eyes flutter shut and she hums around it. 

"Slut for - for you," Harry says, when Louis removes her fingers. Louis stares at her, fond and unable to keep it off her face. 

"Love you," she says, and Harry's whole face lights up, but before she can reply, Louis lowers herself square on Harry's mouth, holding herself up by her knees. Harry's  _I love you too_ is muffled by Louis's cunt. 

There's nothing Harry loves more than Louis on top of her like this. Though she really  _shouldn't_ be getting that much pleasure from it, she always ends up moaning and gasping like it's spectacular for her. Once Louis knows Harry has adjusted, she sits down more firmly, careful to avoid blocking off Harry's nose so that she can breathe, and then leans back, just far enough to be able to cup Harry's cunt. Harry gasps, and the sharp puff of air feels so good that Louis has to take a deep breath if she wants this to last at all. 

"Promised me a vibe, didn't you, love?" Louis asks. 

Harry can't really nod in her position, but Louis is well-versed enough in reading her face that she can tell that she means to. Harry fumbles around for the vibrator, which she's kept near her hands, and switches it on. It's one of Louis's favourites, small and pink and perfect for stimulating her clit. Louis rarely gets off on penetration, so it's always been Harry's go-to toy to use on Louis. 

Harry fumbles around, attempting to fit the vibrator in the small space between her own mouth and Louis's center, and when it's obvious she's not going to be able to manage it with how hard she's shaking, Louis lifts herself up a bit. 

" _Good_ girl," Louis gasps out as Harry fits the vibrator right up against her. "Ooh,  _yes_ , right there, baby." 

Harry's still licking into her, and the combined sensation of her girlfriend's mouth and the vibrator is almost too much. Louis gives up the pretense of holding herself up altogether, lets herself put all her weight down on Harry's mouth, knows she can take it. Knows she  _loves_ it. Louis keeps a steady pressure on Harry's own pussy, cups her firmly but doesn't do much else. She has plans for Harry that don't involve her coming just yet. 

"Like that, Hazza?" Louis asks breathily. "Like me sitting on you, so you can hardly  _breathe_ , and I'm just -  _ah_ -  _using_ you." 

Harry  _does_ nod this time, so passionate is her agreement with Louis's words. It upsets Louis's balance a bit, forcing the vibrator to rub up against her clit at a new angle. It's the shock that does it: Louis comes, fast and hard, doubling down on Harry's mouth as she does. The second orgasm always comes fastest for her - the fifth orgasm usually makes her squirt a bit, but that's a treat for another time. 

When she moves off Harry's mouth, Harry licks up her lips and watches Louis through hooded eyes. Louis skirts her way down Harry's body, running her hand down her chest and stomach in a way that would make Harry collapse in giggles if she wasn't so turned on. 

"Love your body, baby," Louis says. And it's true: She loves every single inch of Harry's gorgeous body, loves her broad shoulders and her slim waist, loves the swell of her small breasts and pert bum, loves the way her little love handles flare out above her panties. Harry's confident - she walks around half-naked most of the time and doesn't particularly care who sees - but Louis still feels the need to assure her that she's perfect, that Louis would never change a single thing about her. 

"Lou,  _please_ ," Harry begs, hips practically spasming in her need to be played with. 

"Can't even believe how wet you got," Louis says, letting only one finger trace the outline of Harry's cunt through her panties. She's not just teasing, though - Harry  _is_ wet, practically soaked her panties through just from servicing Louis. "Could probably use that big dildo on you without even fingering you first, you're so soaked." 

A choked off noise is Harry's only answer, because Louis finally found herself where Harry wants her most. She kisses Harry lightly through her panties, giving her no friction at all to work with. Louis can already tell how good Harry is going to taste, once she gets her mouth on her. Harry's diet basically consists of every type of fruit she can get her hand on, and it doesn't go unnoticed. 

"Think I should clean you up a bit?" Louis asks. "Or should I get your panties even  _more_ wet?" 

Harry's not in any position to make a decision like that, and Louis doesn't force one. She may be in charge here, but she knows exactly what Harry wants and how she wants it. Harry may relinquish control like this occasionally, but Louis is the one who is hopelessly wrapped around Harry's finger. 

Louis decides on the latter, since Harry always likes to come first from a bit of friction. She loves to trib, loves the slow, pulsing orgasm it brings. 

"Gonna ruin them, I think," Louis says happily. She lifts up Harry's right leg, and Harry goes easily, happy to be pushed around. 

Once Harry realises what Louis's about to do, she blurts out, "Oh yes please yes please  _please_." 

Louis laughs and shifts down so that Harry's warm, wet cunt is bracketed by her thigh. Louis's not wearing any panties, but Harry is, and that makes it hotter, somehow. Louis knows she probably won't be able to get off like this; she's still a bit sensitive from her last orgasm and she'd need pretty direct stimulation to get off, which Harry is in no state to be giving. But that's fine, because it's about Harry now. 

"Can I - Lou, can I move?" Harry says. 

"Sure, baby," Louis says. "Use my thigh to get yourself off. Be a good girl for me." 

" _Thank you_ ," Harry breathes. 

She sets a pace that's a little shaky and quick, so clearly desperate to get off. She's making these little sobbing sounds, like she can't believe how good it is, and Louis keeps shifting her thigh to add to the friction. Harry looks like some kind of otherworldly goddess like this: above Louis, her eyes shut, her hips working hypnotically and her breasts bouncing in her bra. As Louis looks, she's struck with the urge to get a taste, so she uses one hand to unsnap the bra, wraps her arm around Harry's back, and urges her down. The new angle means that Harry's even closer to Louis's cunt, and with every desperate nudge, Louis feels a flash of pleasure up her spine. 

"I love you, I love you, I love you," Harry says as Louis stretches upward to get one of Harry's tits in her mouth. Harry's nipples are almost always hard, but especially right now, and if Louis were in any state to move, she'd get out the nipple clamps and go to town. 

"You're beautiful," Louis says. "Fuck, Haz, keep going, get yourself off for me." 

Harry often accuses Louis of being the loud one, but Harry is more likely to make noise in bed. As she reaches her orgasm, she lets out a string of  _fuck fuck fuck fuck'_ s, moving her panty-clothed cunt so that it slots perfectly against Louis's. She's obviously lost to the pleasure, can't do anything but chase the feeling. Sometimes, Louis will gag her - they have toys, but panties always work, too - but she finds that she misses Harry's noises too much to do it that often. 

Harry was so worked up that the after-shocks of her orgasm last a long time. Her moans fade into little whimpers and she kisses Louis desperately through it. Louis holds her, lets her collapse on top of her, pats her bum and plays with her hair for a few long minutes. 

"Thank you," Harry says once she can speak again. 

"Not done yet," Louis says lightly. Harry laughs breathlessly. 

It takes a tremendous amount of strength - both physically and mentally - but Louis eventually heaves herself off of Harry, leaving her looking disheveled and debauched on the couch. She doesn't go far, but Harry pouts anyway, until she sees that Louis has only gotten up to step into the strap-on harness. 

It's something that used to make Louis feel a bit odd. Louis has known she was a lesbian since she was born, practically, never had any real doubts, but Harry has never really cared to label herself. She'd been with only guys before Louis, and though it was thrilling, being Harry's first _girl_ , it was also a little intimidating. Putting the strap-on on used to remind Louis of being twenty, out of her mind in love with her best friend Harry, who was always dating someone else - always dating  _boys_. It reminded her of the first month of their relationship, nervous and insecure, Louis telling Harry, "If you feel like you need, you know. If you ever miss, like - a penis, or whatever - you could tell me, and I could maybe, uh, arrange something" and hoping to god she'd say no. But it also reminds her of Harry smiling radiantly and replying, "No, think I'm quite alright with just you, thanks." 

They've been together nearly five years, and Louis's not so insecure anymore. She likes doing this for Harry.

Since they go out of their way to get their dildos as unrealistic-looking as possible, the one Louis picks out is a bright, sparkly emerald. It's around six inches, rubbery and with a flared tip that's perfect for hitting Harry's G-spot. 

"Think you're ready for my cock, lovely?" Louis asks, slipping the dildo inside the harness. She's sure she looks ridiculous, but Harry doesn't seem to think so, as she's eyeing Louis hungrily and nodding. 

"Want some lube, or are you all set?" she continues, but without waiting for a reply she roughly palms Harry's pussy under her panties and feels for herself. She's practically dripping now, combined slick from both herself and Louis. "Hmm, think you're good. Let's get these panties off, though, alright princess?" 

"Mmhm," Harry says, nodding dazedly. She shimmies out of the pink lace and unconsciously runs a hand over her cunt, where she's probably still sensitive. 

"Stop that," Louis says sharply, lightly slapping her hand away. Harry's eyes are almost completely dilated. "Your cunt is  _mine_ to play with, isn't it?" 

This is one of Louis's favourite parts, getting to exert her possessiveness over Harry in a healthy, controlled way. It turns Harry on as much as it turns Louis on, which feels like an embarrassment of riches, really. Some days Louis wants to snap at every person who looks at Harry for too long, wants to whisk her away from every customer that flirts with her at the cafe or is charmed by her personality, but she can't do that. Here, though, in the home that they've made together, Harry is  _hers_. 

"Sorry," Harry says quietly. 

"Should spank you, for being so naughty," Louis says. "But then, you'd probably like that too much, wouldn't you?" 

Harry does some tragic mix of a nod and a head shake, probably unsure what she's trying to agree with. Louis laughs, leans down to kiss her before straddling her, both legs bracketing Harry's and her rubber cock lying on Harry's stomach. 

"Just wanna look at you all the time," Louis says. She bends over to take Harry's breast into her mouth again, this time taking her time, swirling the nipple around until it's red and hard. She plays with the other one in her hand, palming it and then circling the nipple. She tastes like vanilla. 

"Good girls don't touch themselves," Louis says. "So I think I'm going to have to tie your hands up, to make sure you don't touch what's mine." 

Harry didn't bring down any cuffs or rope down, but Louis is nothing if not resourceful, so she unwinds the green silk from Harry's hair and uses it to secure Harry's hands together. She does it tight, since she knows the silk won't irritate Harry's skin, and then moves Harry's arms so that they're dangling over the edge of the couch. It leaves Harry almost unbearably vulnerable, lying perched on the couch with almost no leverage, which is exactly how Louis wants it. 

Louis could just sink right in and Harry would probably love it, but she checks anyway, curls two fingers inside of Harry's tight heat and starts scissoring them to test Harry's readiness. When she curls her fingers up just _so_ , lightly grazing Harry's G-spot, Harry chokes on a gasp, spluttering, her hips jerking up into the air.

"Need it, need it, need it  _please_ ," she begs. 

"Hush," Louis says. She curls her fingers up a few more times, in a beckoning sort of motion, making sure to hit Harry's spot a couple more times, and then swiftly removes them. 

" _No_ ," Harry says, but not petulantly, more like she's just watched her childhood pet die in her arms. 

"I know you don't like being empty, baby," Louis says, gently flicking a stray curl out of Harry's face. "But I've got you, don't worry. I always take care of you, love." 

Louis gets them both completely naked, finally, since they've both worked up quite a sweat. When she slides into Harry, she can't feel the tight clutch of her cunt, but she can see it, and it's  _gorgeous_. This particular strap-on isn't designed to provide the giver with any direct pleasure, but it's like - Louis could come from _this_ , probably, just watching Harry helplessly arch her back and take her rubber cock farther and farther. 

She knows she's nailed Harry's spot when the younger girl seizes up, every muscle in her body tensing. It's got to be a lot: the dildo is stimulating her G-spot, and the base of it is rubbing up against her clit, not to mention the way their bodies are completely aligned, their breasts and lips squished together. 

" _Yes_ ," Harry cries out. 

Eager to get on with it, Louis uses her thumb to rub harshly at Harry's clit, not stopping until Harry is coming for a second time. Harry's blissed out, boneless and beaming, but Louis isn't done quite yet. She carefully eases Harry over onto her stomach, and then smacks her bum in two quick movements. Harry gasps and arches into it, probably expecting Louis to bring out the paddle and spank her proper. 

"Not tonight, princess," Louis says. "Don't want you to be to sore tomorrow, we've got that appointment." 

Harry grumbles but nods - even as far gone as she is, she can remember how important this appointment is. Even so, Louis isn't going to leave her girl hanging. In one fluid motion, she hitches up Harry's bum, propping her on her hands and knees, so that she has a perfect angle to her cunt from behind. Harry keeps herself pretty well-trimmed, says she prefers the feeling of Louis licking her out with nothing in the way, so there's nothing obscuring her view of Harry's pussy. It's pink and wrecked already, glistening with her release, her clit swollen and  _pulsing_. Louis takes a tentative lick, bracing her hands on Harry's arse cheeks, and Harry, who is struggling to hold herself up with her hands tied together, very nearly falls forward onto the couch. 

"Lick me out, please lick me out," she begs, as if that isn't clearly what Louis's about to do. Louis spanks her, once, for good measure. 

"Taste so good," Louis says, knowing full well how her words will make Harry react. "Love licking you out, baby, wish I could do it all day long." 

Harry pushes her arse out a little farther and sobs into the couch cushion. 

"Tomorrow, maybe I'll wake you up with my tongue in your cunt," Louis says, pulling back for some air and moving her fingers to where her mouth had been. "Or maybe I'll sit on your face again, make you lick me out till you can't breathe."  _  
_

"Anything,  _anything_ ," Harry gasps. 

"Maybe," Louis says thoughtfully, "I'll do both." 

She dives back in after that, stiffening her tongue at Harry's clit and gathering up as much wetness as she can. Louis goes in for a few broad strokes along the length of Harry's cunt, before pointing out her tongue and delving into her center. Harry clenches so tightly around her tongue it's unbelievable, especially considering she'd had a dildo in only a couple of minutes ago. Harry's hands are still tied over her head, so she can't reach around to grab on to Louis's short hair like she usually would, has to instead push back her hips to urge Louis deeper. Louis goes, of course, still gripping her bum and tonguing her deep inside. She makes Harry come for a third time just like that, only what really does it is when Louis tugs at Harry's collar, not hard enough to affect her breathing but hard enough for her to really feel it. 

"Good girl," Louis coos once the spasms have stopped and Harry has calmed down some, gently turning Harry so that she can sit on Louis's lap, made a little difficult by the fact that Louis is still wearing the strap-on. "Perfect girl, I'm so proud of you. But I need you to come once more, okay, darling?" 

Harry almost seems like she's going to object, worked so hard that she's sensitive all over, but Louis knows for a fact that three orgasms is nothing. But she also knows that it's all more intense when Harry is under, that every orgasm feels like a life-or-death thing. On normal nights, she can make Harry come six times and Harry will be ready to run a marathon afterward. On nights like these, Harry gets exhausted so quick, always wants Louis to hold her and be there while she drifts off to sleep. 

"Don't...know," Harry says uncertainly. She hides her face in Louis's neck again, and Louis can feel that she's flushing. 

"S'not your job to know, it's mine," Louis says confidently. "And I  _know_ you can ride me and come one more time for me." 

It's borderline cruel, making Harry ride her when she's already so tired, but the point of this is to push Harry to her limits. Harry's already in position, anyway, straddling Louis's lap, the dildo resting on her thigh. She'd only have to lift herself up a bit to fit it inside, but she makes no move to do so. 

"C'mon," Louis urges. "Don't you want to show me how good you are? You _are_ good, aren't you?" 

"M'good," Harry says determinedly. She shifts around in Louis's lap a little in protest. "I  _am._ "

"Then show me," Louis says. 

It's a testament to how determined Harry is to prove herself as a good girl that she uses her thigh muscles to lift herself up, adjusting the dildo all on her own at her entrance without using her hands. She slides down in one swift motion, and for a second Louis feels like she has a phantom dick, because she can  _feel_ it, how tight Harry is, how overwhelming it is to be inside of her again. 

" _Oh_ ," Harry sighs, letting her eyelids drift shut. Louis shifts them so that she's leaning against the back of the couch, but otherwise stays still. Harry takes a bit to get adjusted to the size, and when she does, she starts bouncing herself on the cock. Harry puts her tied hands around Louis's head, so that her forearms rest on Louis's shoulders, and she uses those to give herself leverage. 

"That's it," Louis breathes, watching in fascination as Harry absolutely swallows up the dildo in her lap. "Gorgeous, baby, you're taking it so well." 

Harry doesn't answer, can't answer, just speeds up her bouncing and makes choked  _ah ah ah_ sounds as she does. Her hair is falling in Louis's face - it smells like oranges and Harry and home, and Louis would cry except she thinks that would scare Harry. It's just that this is  _everything_ she could have ever imagined for her life - a good job and a nice home and a beautiful  woman to come home to. And Harry is  _everything_ , her best friend, her soul mate, the mother of any children she'll ever have. It hits Louis, sometimes - all the time - how bloody fucking lucky she got. 

But now is probably not the best time to get sappy about it. 

"Love you," she says anyway. 

Harry just collapses, then, falling into Louis and snogging her into the couch, surprisingly deeply. Louis lets her, because she'd be punishing herself more than anything if she made her stop. They kiss for a long time, Louis bringing one hand up to cup Harry's cheek and the other down to stroke her clit. 

"You're my girl," Louis breathes into her mouth. "Forever, yeah?" 

"Yeah,  _yeah_ ," Harry moans. Louis's not sure if it's in response to her words or the fact that she's about to come, but either way, she kisses her right through it. 

Harry doesn't move for a while after she climaxes, so Louis takes charge, whispering sweet nothings into her hair while she gently removes the dildo from Harry and shuffles out of the strap-on. She unties Harry's wrists and kisses them each delicately. Harry's watching her, and Louis can tell that she's still pretty far under, so she grabs a throw blanket from the edge of the couch and wraps it around them both, gently easing Harry down into a lying position and spooning her from behind. 

"You were so good," Louis whispers into her ear. "Always so good for me, baby, can't even believe you're mine." 

"Yours," Harry immediately agrees, catching Louis's wrist and holding it tightly. 

"You feel okay?" Louis asks. She runs a hand down Harry's now-sweaty torso, trying to relax her. 

"Good," Harry says. Then, after a moment, "Fuzzy." 

"Yeah, I know," Louis says, kissing the back of her neck. "Want you to come back up, when you can. So I can propose to you again." 

Harry giggles and cuddles deeper into Louis.

It takes a bit of coaxing - mostly whisperings of  _I love you_ and  _You're so good_ and  _Couldn't ask for anything better -_  but after maybe twenty minutes of lying there, warm and comfortable,  Harry's pulse evens out and she comes back to herself. Louis can't see her face from her position behind her, but she can tell by the way Harry's grip gets more firm and steady on her wrist, and by the way she starts to get ticklish from Louis's running her fingers down her tummy.

Finally, Harry turns over so that she's facing Louis, and her usual cheeky smirk is there. And no matter how much Louis loves doing this, she can't help but feel relieved, can't help but think,  _You're back_. 

" _I_ proposed to  _you_ , thank you very much," Harry says, which, of course she does. Louis bites her shoulder in protest. 

"Only because you tricked me, you dirty cheater," Louis says. "'I don't want to get engaged on my birthday' my arse. You just wanted to make sure I wouldn't do it so you could do it first." 

Harry sticks out her tongue. "It was the very best birthday present I could give myself," she says dreamily. 

Louis  _hmphs_ , but it's basically pointless. She's so in love. 

"How was your day, anyway?" Harry asks, taking Louis's hand and hefting her off the couch. Louis groans but stands anyway, stretching out her muscles, which have all cramped up. She takes one of the water bottles and makes Harry drink some before replying. 

"Was fine," Louis says with a shrug, taking the bottle and having a sip of her own. "Better now." 

Harry grins. "Want me to wash your hair?" 

"Mmm, yes please," Louis says, standing on her tip-toes to give her a kiss. She's not done with the aftercare routine, not by a long shot, but this is one of her favourite parts of what they do, just after a scene, once the hazy subspace is wearing away, and Harry becomes obsessed with taking care of Louis, too. 

"Race you," Harry says, and peels off down the hall with a shriek of laughter, leaving Louis to watch her go in disbelief. 

She's marrying a child, but that's okay. She'll deal. 

 

 


End file.
